This living hand, now warm and capableOf earnest grasping, would, if it were coldAnd in the icy silence of the tomb,So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nightsThat thou…

Where be ye going, you Devon maid?      And what have ye there i’ the basket?Ye tight little fairy, just fresh from the dairy,      Will ye give me some cream if I ask…

To one who has been long in city pent,    ‘Tis very sweet to look into the fair    And open face of heaven,–to breathe a prayerFull in the smile of the blue firmament.Who…

Byron! how sweetly sad thy melody! Attuning still the soul to tenderness, As if soft Pity, with unusual stress, Had touch’d her plaintive lute, and thou, being by, Hadst caught…

Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness,    Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,Sylvan historian, who canst thus express    A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:What leaf-fring’d legend haunts about thy shape    Of…

Keen, fitful gusts are whisp’ring here and there Among the bushes half leafless, and dry; The stars look very cold about the sky, And I have many miles on foot…

Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;    There are four seasons in the mind of man:He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear    Takes in all beauty with an easy span:He…

Fill for me a brimming bowlAnd in it let me drown my soul:But put therein some drug, designedTo Banish Women from my mind:For I want not the stream inspiringThat fills…

Where’s the Poet? show him! show him,Muses nine! that I may know him.‘Tis the man who with a manIs an equal, be he King,Or poorest of the beggar-clanOr any other…

Hither hither, love—      ‘Tis a shady mead—Hither, hither, love!      Let us feed and feed! Hither, hither, sweet—      ‘Tis a cowslip bed—Hither, hither, sweet!      ‘Tis with dew bespread! Hither, hither, dear      By the breath of life,Hither,…